


Sub Rosa

by Victorious56



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Clover is trying to live with it, Established Relationship, James is overly-cautious, M/M, Mutual Pining, Reconciliation, Winter is a good friend, clover has had enough, mild bedroom shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorious56/pseuds/Victorious56
Summary: The books and films had got it all wrong, Clover realised. There was no excitement or romance in a clandestine love affair.Only frustration.
Relationships: Clover Ebi/James Ironwood
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

Clover grabbed a towel and rubbed his face, before taking a long slurp from his water bottle. He tipped the remainder of the water over his head, hair flattening against his scalp as the welcome refreshment soaked into his top. He dried his face again, hiding his smile in the towel as he turned away from the wall of the training room. The thin material of his top stretched across his body and clung to his skin, and he knew the General was looking. The knowledge stirred the usual feelings within him, and as he lowered the towel from his face he risked a glance at the man standing a few feet away.

James' face was flushed, his steel-blue eyes fixed on the movement of Clover's hand as he rubbed the towel slowly across his chest. Although the water had not dampened his trousers, Clover continued rubbing downwards. His eyes were locked on James' face, watching his lips part, noticing the tip of a tongue run across them. Clover allowed the towel to drop to the floor, while his hand maintained its contact with his body, his state of arousal painfully obvious to the General.

"Lights, ten percent!" James' voice was loud in the now quiet training room, and as the light dimmed around them he took the four steps necessary to bring him face to face with Clover.

"Do you have any idea of the effect you're having on me?" James placed his hand over Clover's and pressed firmly. "Well, of course you do."

Their damp faces were only inches apart, warm breath mingling as James slipped his hand under the waistband of Clover's trousers. One gentle tug and their bodies came together, mouths hard with heady desire which no longer had to be restrained.

"Not complaining, are you, James?" Clover's voice was breathless as he broke away for a moment, almost dizzy from the sensation of James' body pressing against his. The General didn't offer an immediate reply, but continued to move his hips slowly, causing Clover to feel almost lightheaded.

"I have no complaint. Except this is a public place, and I cannot therefore do what I want to."

"Which is?" Clover breathed against James' ear, pulling him even closer by winding one leg around his hip.

James responded by slipping both hands into the front of Clover's trousers, cupping him entirely. Clover gasped; the General wasn't normally this bold.

"So you thought you'd do it anyway," he panted. "Gods, James, this is risky... much more of this and I won't be able to stop—"

"You're right." His voice was strained as his hands stopped moving. He withdrew them and stepped back, breathing hard. "And you're such a tease... first you out-spar me, then almost bring me to my knees with your provocative behaviour. It's not fair, Clover. Not here."

"I'm sorry," Clover replied. From the little James could see of his expression, he didn't look sorry at all. "And thinking about you on your knees is making me feel... like we should go to bed. Now."

James rubbed a hand over his face. "I think you're right." He caught Clover's hand. "Don't get me wrong... I love it when you're so— tantalising. It's just... I have to think of my position."

Clover grinned. "That's exactly what I _was_ thinking of." He squeezed James' hand and winked, and after a moment James let out a shaky laugh.

"You're terrible. Now then, let's gather our things and get out of here."

They left the room, Clover resetting the program on the way out. The corridors were quiet at this late hour, and James' quarters soon reached.

Clover began pulling his clothes off once the door was closed. Bare-chested, he turned back to James and started undressing him, fumbling with buttons and zips in his haste. James paused, cupping Clover's face in his hands. He looked into the green eyes, darker now with yearning as Clover hesitated. "What's up?"

"Absolutely nothing. I could drown in your eyes, Clover, and I would die a happy man."

Eyes widening, Clover stared back at him. "Are you sure you're okay, James?"

James dropped his hands, looking aside with a small laugh. "I'm sorry, I've been reading a little poetry lately..."

Clover pulled him into a hug. "Don't apologise... that was sweet. Corny, but still sweet. Although I don't want you to drown at all." He took James' hand and pulled him across the room. "Let's go to bed."

❖

Much later, after James had eased himself away from Clover and they were curled one behind the other, sleep beckoning, Clover reflected on how they'd got here.

Of course he'd admired James from the beginning. A man who could hold down two demanding jobs, work so hard with no thought of any difficulties which might be caused by his extensive prosthetics, and look so damn _hot_ all the time... Clover had found the transition from admiration, to something more personal, very easy. What had been startling, turning his world on its head, was that his feelings had been reciprocated.

Clover smiled into the darkness of the bedroom. He could feel James' slow breaths on his shoulder, could feel his own wakefulness retreating into the dark. The memory of the function where they had first kissed, though... it kept Clover awake a little longer as he recalled how it came about. A routine patrol of the area outside the function room had taken him along a deserted service corridor, only to bump into James—literally—as he turned a corner. The General had apologised profusely, only stopping when Clover had taken his career and reputation and set them to one side, by placing one finger lightly on James' lips. He didn't even now know what had made him do it. The General's shocked countenance confirmed his realisation that a stupid risk had probably cost him his career, or would lead to a reprimand and demotion at least.

That hadn't happened, though. After his initial reaction, James had taken Clover's hand in his own, silently asking the question with a raised eyebrow. Clover's smile was enough affirmation for the General to kiss each finger gently, before his mouth moved to Clover's lips. A breathless minute later they had each confirmed their feelings for the other, and now, almost three months later, Clover invariably slept in James' quarters. He and James frequently ate together, and spent their evenings in comfortable domesticity. When James wasn't working late, of course.

Clover frowned slightly. He struggled to get James to clock off, to put his work day behind him. And the fact James insisted their relationship could not be public knowledge made it even more difficult for Clover to insist. He had to maintain the persona of a mere subordinate, and he was finding this more difficult as each week passed.

❖

"It's three months to the day, James. Don't you remember?"

"Come now, Clover. Am I the kind of person who would forget something like that?"

It was the weekend, and Clover had persuaded James he didn't have to get up and check his emails before breakfast. They'd had breakfast in bed, managing to avoid getting crumbs between the sheets. Now the tray had been put to one side, and Clover had prevented James from getting up by the simple expedient of wrapping his arms about the other and keeping him in bed. After a token resistance, James had settled down with his head resting on Clover's shoulder. It was a good place to be.

"So I was wondering if we could go out for a meal?" Clover's tone was casual, but his face, unseen by James, was tense.

"It's not possible, Clover. We can't be seen together in public."

Clover frowned. "It's not so unusual for two colleagues to go for a meal. No-one would think anything of it."

James shifted in the bed, sighing as he tilted his face up to his boyfriend. "There is no way we could eat a whole meal together and maintain the appearance of nothing more than co-workers. My acting skills aren't that good, and I'm not sure yours are, either."

Clover's frown was joined by a pout. "Why are you ashamed of me?"

James pushed himself back, brow wrinkling at the question. "Why would I be ashamed of you? You're the most gorgeous, gentle, kind, and loving person I've ever known."

"But you won't acknowledge we're together. What else can I think?"

The peaceful start to their day had soured as Clover folded his arms across his chest. "Three months together, and we can't even mark it," he muttered, turning his face away from James.

Flopping back onto the pillow, James replied in a weary voice, "We've had this conversation too many times already, you know. It will cause problems for both of us, if the truth of our relationship comes out. And neither of us want those problems, do we?"

Clover sighed. "No, of course not. But—"

James turned to face him. "We could get a takeaway. No—" he placed a finger on Clover's lips to stop him interrupting. "Not a standard thing. I believe there's a rather good restaurant that will prepare a gourmet meal and deliver it to your door. We can set the table nicely... it'll be like going out to eat."

"Hmph. Almost..." Clover wasn't completely convinced, yet he wanted the day to be a happy one. "You win," he said.

"It's not a competition, you know." James leant up and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Clover. I know you find this difficult sometimes... but it's very important to me."

"And this is important to me." Clover surprised James by rolling him onto his back, straddling him and pressing a hard kiss against his lips.

James hummed in agreement, and the remaining tension melted away as Clover's mouth made its way slowly down James' neck, his tongue tickling the warm skin. James wriggled in anticipation, and as his hand traced across Clover's back, the unwelcome thought that he wasn't being fair to Clover was left behind.

❖

It was a very good meal, Clover had to admit. James had set the table with a white cloth, and found a centrepiece complete with a scented candle. He confessed he couldn't recall where it had come from.

"It may have been a gift from a grateful parent... I've never had cause to use it. Until now." He slid his hand across the table and linked his fingers with Clover's. "I love you, you know. These last three months have been so special."

Clover smiled, yet couldn't prevent the thought which sidled into his brain. _If it's so special, why must it be hidden away?_

"And I love you, too. Thank you for a lovely meal."

James squeezed his fingers before releasing them. "I've just remembered; I meant to give you these earlier." He went into the kitchen and returned with a bouquet of red and white roses. "A little cliched, I know. But— thank you, Clover. For putting up with me, and my foibles."

Clover pushed his chair back and stood, taking the flowers and inhaling their silky fragrance. "They're gorgeous. Like you." He put the bouquet on the table and pulled James towards him. "I'm sorry for going on about... you know what." Sliding his arms around James' waist, he drew him closer. Clover breathed in deeply, the fragrance of James' cologne mingling with the warm, spicy notes from the candle. The combination was a heady concoction, and he whispered in James' ear, "And we couldn't behave like this in a restaurant."

James ran a hand over Clover's chest, fingers brushing the thin fabric of his shirt. He felt a nipple harden under his touch, and heard Clover's breath hitch.

"If we did, they'd never let us back." James' other hand reached down, pulling Clover's body hard against his own. With a moan, Clover moved his leg to press against James. Their mouths met, gentle at first, but quickly seeking more.

"Was there dessert?" Clover's breath quickened as James' hand travelled from his chest to the waistband of his trousers.

"It's in the fridge... let's save it for later."

Clover hummed his agreement, and James snuffed out the candle before they made their way to the bedroom.

  


Later, all passion spent, they lay breathless in each other's arms. Clover's leg rested across James' lower body, his face pressed against smooth, warm metal. He could feel the thrum of the internal mechanisms which kept the man he loved alive. He felt a surging sensation within his own chest, and hugged James a little closer.

"What is it?" James' voice was almost sleepy.

"Nothing... just love you." Clover wondered how he could have been so selfish. After all James had endured, surely he was allowed to keep his personal life private? _And who am I to try and force his hand?_

As they drifted off to sleep, Clover determined to try and see things from James' perspective. If the General could tolerate keeping their relationship secret, surely he could too?


	2. Chapter 2

James pressed _pause_ , and the action on the screen froze as the pursuers were about to spin the wheels before setting off after their quarry.

"I need the bathroom." He pushed himself to a standing position, adding, "And I could top up our popcorn, too."

Clover held out the bowl with a smile. "Yes, please."

James returned with the bowl and two more bottles of beer. "These should see us through to the end."

Clover looked at him as he sat down. "You'd look pretty suave dressed like him, you know. Never mind _The Man With the Golden Gun_ , you'd be _The Man With the Silver Arm_." He stroked the fingers of James' right hand, ungloved as usual when they were at home.

James threaded his fingers through Clover's. "You know, I was so worried at the start... of how you'd react when you saw— how I am, beneath my clothes. It's probably the main reason why I've never... sought company, very often."

Clover shifted sideways on the sofa, catching hold of James' hand between both of his. _He must have been so lonely._

"I never gave it a second thought," he said truthfully. "It's always been who you are, to me. Both sides of you are beautiful, James."

He turned to look at Clover, his smile a little wobbly. "I am the luckiest man in Atlas... no, in _Remnant_ , to be here. With you." He extricated his hand and raised it to Clover's cheek. "Thank you."

Clover kissed his fingers. "You're very welcome," he grinned. "Right, time for more popcorn, and let's see how long this chase lasts before they go off a cliff, or something."

He settled back comfortably on the sofa, one leg draped over James' lap. James picked up the remote, and the film resumed to the screech of car tyres.

❖

Clover peered at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He frowned, combing his hair once more and smoothing it with his fingers. With a small nod, he put the comb away and came out into the bedroom.

James had been watching him through the doorway, unable to keep the smile from his face. Things were more settled now between them— he was making an effort not to work too late, and Clover had not raised the subject of the restrictions on their relationship for some time.

"What?" Clover raised an eyebrow at James, who was standing in the middle of the bedroom with a soft smile on his face.

"Nothing... nothing at all. It's just... you're a welcome sight in the morning, you know. Well, at any time," he amended.

"You say the nicest things." Clover kissed him softly on the mouth. "Mmm, is that coffee I can taste?"

"It is, would you like some?"

"Yes, please." Clover kissed a little harder, his tongue edging past James' lips. The kiss threatened to lead to something more, as James' arms reached round and drew Clover close, their bodies pressing together. Clover moaned softly, one hand on James' chest, and the fingers of the other threading through his dark hair.

With an effort, James pulled away. "I meant, shall I pour you a cup?" His voice was husky as his hands gripped Clover's hips, not wanting to release him. "We can't be late for work..."

Clover shuddered, bringing his hand up to frame James' face. "I guess I'll have to be content with that. For now." He kissed James on the nose. "And I have to tidy my hair again."

He smiled at his reflection. At times like this, their relationship was all he'd hoped for, when he'd recklessly showed his heart to James at the start.

The smile faded. He knew, when they stepped through the door, his nagging worries would still be waiting for him.

❖

Clover stood before James, adjusting his tie a fraction. He leant back, casting a critical eye up and down, before placing his hands on James' shoulders and kissing him lightly on the mouth.

"You look perfect. Good enough to eat." He grinned at the faint blush which rose on James' cheeks. "And I love how I can still make you blush, after all these months."

James took Clover's hand in his. "What is it... five months? Six?"

"Six months next week. As if you didn't know." Clover kissed James' metal fingers. "Now then, gloves on, and you'll be ready to go."

James stepped over to the dresser and pulled on his gloves, smoothing the fingers slowly. He glanced over his shoulder, before moving the mirror on the dresser top a fraction to the left.

"You know I'd love for you to come, Clover." His voice was low, and he didn't turn around until Clover replied.

"And you know I'd love to come with you. I understand, James."

James' shoulders relaxed, as he raised one hand to touch Clover's cheek gently. "Maybe one day, things will be different."

"Maybe." Clover smiled.

If James had been more observant, he would have noticed that the smile did not reach Clover's eyes.

❖

James shook the hand of the final student, smiling down at her. She gazed at him, her face somehow worried and happy at the same time. Try as he might, James' height made him seem daunting to his students, even when he was presenting them with an award and smiling broadly.

She trod carefully down the few steps at the side of the stage, the applause slowly fading as James turned to face the audience.

"Thank you, thank you. And congratulations to all the students who received their awards this evening. Atlas Academy is very proud of you." He waited for the applause to die down once more. "Now then, a buffet is set out in the adjoining room, so please make good use of it." There was a sprinkling of laughter, and he added, "Dancing will commence in this room in one hour, however, so please don't eat _too_ much." More chuckles and muted chatter broke out as the students and their guests made their way towards the food.

James switched off the microphone and sighed.

If only he could walk into the other room with Clover on his arm... if only they could collect their food, sharing nibbles from each other's plates... if only he and Clover could dance together late into the night...

If only.

❖

Clover lay in the wide bed and tried hard not to feel sorry for himself. _Why am I so selfish? I have a wonderful boyfriend, who is thoughtful and kind, and makes me happy in so many ways..._ As he turned over in the bed, the cool sheets brushing his skin, Clover allowed himself the luxury of recalling all the ways James had made him happy in the place he was lying right now. _There's more to us than sex, though. Even if I sometimes feel like the princess kept in the tower, unable to leave._

Clover chided himself. Of course he could leave— he wasn't imprisoned. This was nonsense.

_But I can't leave with James. Can't be seen with him, as a couple. We can't go out and do things together, like other couples do._

This wasn't going to go away, Clover knew. He'd tried, and managed successfully for the most part, to go along with James' insistence on secrecy. But it gnawed at him repeatedly— sometimes only a fleeting thought, at other times a full-on argument with himself in his own head.

_I'm not sure this is sustainable. Something has to change, or—_

Clover didn't want to dwell on what came after the _or_. He rolled over again, wrapping his arms around his torso and hugging himself closely. Swallowing hard to push down the stony weight forming in his chest, he closed his eyes tightly against the unwelcome images forming in front of him.

He didn't hear James return, at least an hour later.

❖

Several days passed, and James could bear it no longer.

"What is it, Clover? You've not been yourself for a while now."

Clover munched on his toast and thought about how to answer. _Reply with some platitude or another... or say what's on my mind?_

"I'm not happy, James."

James raised his eyes to study Clover's face, knife poised in mid-air. A blob of butter slid off onto his plate, but he didn't notice.

"Not happy? But why?" James felt his stomach clench. He was sure he knew what was coming,

"I thought I was doing okay... not letting it get to me." Clover picked crumbs from the table, putting them onto his plate one by one. "But after that function at the Academy the other day... I love you, you know that. But— I'm not enjoying this. Being hidden away, not able to be honest with people..."

James carefully buttered his slice of toast and cut it in half, resting the knife on the edge of his plate.

"It's not ideal, of course. But Clover, we've discussed this. You know—"

"It hasn't been a discussion. It's been you, telling me how things will be." Clover's voice was steady, his eyes fixed on the table. Abruptly, he stood and pushed his chair back. "Do you never wonder how _I_ feel?" His voice cracked as he leant a hand on the back of the chair, staring at James with a frown.

"I think I know that already." James took a small bite of toast and chewed it thoroughly. _If I remain composed, everything will be fine._ Clover watched him, his eyes narrowing.

"But it doesn't count for anything. It's your way, or no way, it seems to me." Clover felt a coldness drop through his body as he spoke. He hadn't meant to make it sound like an ultimatum.

"Is that how it feels to you? I never intended that." James felt a rising sense of panic, and tried to slow down his breathing. In a few minutes the situation had spiralled to another plane, and the tone of Clover's voice scared him.

"Intentions don't matter, it's the results that count. And the fact is, we've been together for six months and never been on a date. Never been to the cinema, or eaten out, or even gone for a walk together. I've tried so hard, James—" Clover's voice dropped to a whisper. "But I can't keep doing this. Not in this way."

They stared at each other.

"What are you saying?" James couldn't understand how his voice could be so calm, when his insides felt as though they were being shredded by many wicked knives.

Clover moved away from the table. He felt as though his movements, and his words, were being directed by someone else. "I'm going to move back into my quarters for a bit. I think— perhaps we need time away from each other. Maybe that'll help." He went into the bedroom and began opening drawers and cupboards, dragging out clothes and tossing them onto the bed.

James felt as though he was frozen. With an effort, he followed Clover and stood in the doorway, wondering how his life had been turned inside out in a matter of moments.

"Clover, don't be rash. Let's talk—"

"What's the point? Everything's been said already." Clover paused, a t-shirt in his hand. "Several times over. We tried, and it didn't work. So that's that."

"No, Clover... wait." James crossed the room and caught him by the arm. Clover stiffened, and the expression on his face as he looked at James was a cold blade slipped between his ribs.

"I'm going, James. I can't— it just isn't working for me." With a hiccup, Clover pulled away. He dragged a bag from the wardrobe and began piling his clothes into it carelessly.

James watched him, the scene playing out in slow motion. Clover pushed the jumbled clothes down and tugged on the zip. It caught partway, and he yanked on it with a muttered curse. When it didn't move, he gave up and picked up the bag.

"I might have missed a few things... let me know, or— put them in a box, or something..." Clover's voice faltered, as he continued, "I won't let this affect my work, of course. And—" with a determined swallow, he added, "You'll want to change the access code on your door here, I expect."

James opened his mouth, but he couldn't think of what to say. Clover squared his shoulders.

"Bye, then." The whispered words hung between them, as he turned with an effort and left.

James looked at the bedroom.

The rumpled sheets, the bed only recently vacated after they'd woken from sleep.

The dresser drawers, opened haphazardly, their contents tumbled over heedlessly.

The single sock, dropped on the floor and unnoticed by Clover in his haste to leave.

James rubbed his face. His eyes stung, but no tears came. He began to tidy the bed, then paused. He rested his hand on the pillow, biting his lower lip savagely. Then he stripped the bedding and threw it into the corner of the room.

  


Clover's eyes did not remain dry. He exited James' quarters almost at a run, careless of who might see.

There was no-one to witness him as he strode down the corridor, reaching the lift and pressing the button harder than necessary. No-one to watch as he trod swiftly to his own room, dropping the bag on the floor once the door was closed.

He sat heavily on the sofa, head back and staring at the ceiling. All he saw was James' stricken face, lips parted yet silent.

_There's nothing to say. We tried, and it wasn't enough._


	3. Chapter 3

"Of course, sir. I'll attend to it immediately." Clover saluted and turned to leave the office. James half-rose from his desk, then sank back with a sigh. Clover's steps faltered momentarily, but he did not stop. The door clicked shut, and James was alone once more.

He rested his elbows on the desk, his head dropping onto his clenched fists. A defeated sigh escaped his lips, and he rubbed impatiently at his face as the tears began to seep again.

_It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all._

Whoever wrote that is a complete idiot, he thought. His life before he and Clover got together had not been _so_ bad, in comparison to this torment. Made far worse by having to see Clover every day, having to speak with him, and give him orders. Clover was the height of professional efficiency, and not once did his eyes meet James'.

James had thought that after nearly a month, it wouldn't hurt so much. He hoped, forlornly, that maybe after two months the pain would lessen.

  


Clover's heart was leaden in his chest as he closed the door behind him. The stolen glances at James told him the other man was coping about as well as he was himself.

It was easier when they weren't alone. If Winter was there, or the other Ops... When it was the two of them, Clover had to fight the urge to cross behind the desk and give James the biggest hug he could. He wanted to brush the errant strands of hair from his lined brow, to kiss his tired eyes and stroke his lips until he smiled again.

But that would solve nothing, so he strengthened his resolve and maintained the icy wall between them. Even though his chest ached, every day, to break it down and tell James he was sorry, and please could they be alright again.

❖

"You may go, Specialist. If I can have that report by the end of tomorrow—"

"Certainly, sir. And— there is something I'd like to ask you, if I may."

James looked up at Winter's calm face. Her forehead wrinkled a little, and she shifted her weight from one foot to another as she regarded him.

"Stand easy, Winter. What is it?" James sat back in his chair, fingers steepled together before him.

"Forgive me if you feel this is— inappropriate, sir. It's just... Are you quite well? You have seemed very... down, these past few weeks. A marked contrast to how you were before."

A wry smile curved James' lips. "I've... not been sleeping well of late. I'm sure it will pass." He raised his eyebrows slightly. "Is that all?"

Winter took a deep breath. "No, sir. It— it's Clover, isn't it? Captain Ebi, I should say."

James' lips thinned. "Indeed you should. What is your meaning, precisely?"

Winter's hands gripped each other behind her back. Her voice trembled a little as she replied. "I knew, sir. About you and— Ebi. And now... you've split up, and it's not going well. For you... or him."

James stood suddenly, leaning forward on the desk. Winter took an involuntary step back.

"You are speaking out of turn, Specialist. Whatever may, or may not be, the case... it is no concern of yours. You are dismissed."

She swallowed, standing stiffly to attention. "Yes, sir." With a salute, she turned and left the office.

James sat back heavily as the door closed.

_If Winter knew, then how many other people did, too?_

❖

A few days after Winter's failed attempt to help the General, she tried with Clover. They were going through mission reports at the end of the day, and when the last one was finished, she put out her hand to prevent him from standing.

"Clover, wait a moment."

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. She rarely, if ever, used his first name.

"Am I in trouble, or something?"

Winter look startled. "What? No, of course not. At least—" She bit her lip. The last thing she wanted was to fall out with her colleague. "Don't get angry with me, will you? I need to say something."

Clover pursed his lips. He and Winter never had deep, personal conversations, and he wondered what was coming.

"I don't want to know the details, but— is there no chance of you and the General getting back together? He's been in such a state since—"

"What? What has he said?" Clover felt his stomach churn at the idea of Winter and James discussing their problems.

"He said nothing, when I spoke to him. I wish he had, though." She sighed wearily, smoothing her hair back. "He's worn out, and he doesn't leave his office until late in the evening, every night. But he won't talk about it. He wouldn't even acknowledge that you and he were... close."

Clover frowned. "Well, he wouldn't, would he? I was just his dirty little secret." He laughed bitterly. "Not so secret, it would seem."

Winter rested a hand on his arm. "I don't think it was like that. If that's all you were to him, he wouldn't be suffering like he is now."

"Oh, suffering, is he? Well, serves him right." Clover pushed the chair away from the desk and stood up. He began shuffling the papers into an untidy stack, his hands fumbling until the sheets spilled onto the floor.

Winter looked up, startled to see tears trickling from his eyes. A faint flush spread across her cheeks as she looked at him, uncertain of how to proceed. Clover was crouched down, gathering the papers and shoving them back onto the desk. She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"Is there nothing that can be done? No chance of a reconciliation?"

Clover sat back on his heels, gripping the edge of the desk with one hand. "I don't know. I don't think so," he whispered. "He said we couldn't be seen together... because of work. I tried to be happy with that— maybe I wanted too much, I don't know."

He rested his forehead on his hand, and Winter rubbed his shoulder. "I wish I could wave a magic wand and make it all good for you... all I know is, I'm certain he is as unhappy as you are. If only there was some way—"

Clover sat back suddenly, wincing as he hit the floor uncomfortably. "How did you know, Winter? It was meant to be a secret... that was the whole point."

She smiled at him gently. "It was obvious to anyone with the slightest observational skills... you were so painfully careful around each other, but when your eyes met, in a meeting or whatever—" She paused, then added with a wistful smile, "You couldn't hide it, either of you. It was apparent you cared for each other."

Clover rubbed his eyes. "We did. I do."

"And so does he, I'm sure of it." She adopted a more bracing tone. "Come now, this won't do. We are soldiers; we've faced tough battles before. We simply need a strategy."

Winter got to her feet, holding a hand out to Clover. He took it with a wobbly chuckle, and she pulled him to his feet with a grunt.

"If you think it's worth fighting for... then fight. Don't give up."

He gazed into her eyes, the blue of a spring sky reflected back at him. It was a hopeful colour. For the first time in many weeks, the dull ache in Clover's chest receded a little.

"I won't."

❖

The following day, Clover had completed the morning briefing and was about to file out after the others, when Winter gestured to him.

"This might seem like a childish ploy from our schooldays— at least, from _some_ people's schooldays, but—" she broke off, checking the room was clear.

Clover was intrigued.

"I have been thinking about your... predicament. And I believe the answer is a simple one."

Clover folded his arms, eyebrows raised. "That sounds promising. I'll try anything, if I'm honest." He bit his lip, trying and failing to not think about James.

"I can call the General and say there's something I must show him on my computer. He'll come to my office, but I won't be there. You will." She smiled slightly as she looked up at him. "What do you think?"

Clover considered. "It's definitely simple... but what's to stop him just walking out when he sees me?"

"That will be down to you. I don't think he will, Ebi. He'll be surprised at first, so you can get your argument in straight away."

Clover bit his lip. "What _is_ my argument, though?"

"Hmm, well, I can't really help you there. Other than to say, if his whole intent was to keep your relationship a secret... it hadn't worked, had it?"

"True. Right, well, when do we do this?"

Winter tapped her finger on a nearby table. "I know he has meetings today, so maybe tomorrow will be best."

Clover nodded. "Tomorrow. Okay, then. Let me know what time is best for you." He squared his shoulders, briefly touching her arm. "Thanks, Winter. If this works... I'll owe you, big time."

She held up two sets of crossed fingers, smiling at him before turning to leave the room.

❖

Clover opened his fridge and wondered why he was surprised at its contents. He hadn't felt like cooking lately, and even shopping was a chore at the moment. The solitary meal-for-one would have to do.

He put it into the microwave, squinting at the wrapper to see how long it needed. Before he'd found the instructions, his scroll buzzed in his pocket. With a sigh, he put the wrapper down and took his scroll out.

It was a message from James.

They hadn't been in contact since splitting up, and Clover's heart simultaneously lifted and plummeted at the notification. He felt a churning in his stomach as he tapped the screen.

_I would like to call in this evening if convenient. There is something I need to tell you._

Clover stared at the message. Why couldn't James tell him via scroll?

Chewing on his lower lip, he replied.

_Okay, any time._

Maybe he's leaving, he thought. Quitting Atlas and going to work somewhere else.

Clover's faint hunger had vanished, as his mind supplied all the possible reasons for James' message. His hands trembled slightly as he replaced the wrapper on the ready meal and returned it to the fridge, before moving to sit on the sofa. He gnawed at a clenched fist, desperate to be private with James, yet also terrified at what he might be coming over to say.

He didn't have long to wait. A quiet tap at the door almost went unnoticed, but when it was repeated Clover's hand was on the handle. He opened it abruptly, revealing the General standing in the corridor. Clover glanced at him, retreating to allow him in yet unable to even muster a _Hello_.

James walked slowly through, his hands tugging at the edge of his jacket nervously. Clover gestured to the sofa. "D'you want to sit?"

James sat down a little stiffly, and Clover stood awkwardly for a moment, before pulling out a chair and taking a seat. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his trousers, and waited.

After the longest moment, James looked up. Their eyes met, and Clover had never seen such a defeated look on his face before. A nauseous feeling rose in his throat. _I've done this to him. What was I thinking?_

"I—" James voice was gruff, and he coughed loudly. "As I said, there's something I want to say to you, before you hear it officially."

Clover stared at him, his mouth too dry to attempt a reply.

"I've resigned my commission... I've quit the military."

The simple statement did not make sense in Clover's brain. He shook his head slightly. "What... what do you mean?"

"What I said. I have resigned... left my job. I'm still a headmaster, but no longer a general."

Clover ran his hands through his hair. "But— I don't understand. What's happened." An icy chill washed over him. "Are you ill, James?"

"What? No, not at all. At least—" he smiled thinly. "My heart is broken, though I'm not sure that qualifies."

"So—" The words wouldn't come. "Why... what, are you leaving Atlas? I don't —"

"That had crossed my mind. But— painful though it is, every day... I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing you." His voice tapered off and he stared at his hands, smoothing the gloves repeatedly.

Clover stood, crossing the room before walking back again.

"I've never felt so stupid in my life. What's happened, then?"

James glanced at him, then lowered his gaze once more.

"I had a series of meetings today. I spoke with the Chiefs of Staff to tell them of my plans. I met with the teaching staff at the Academy, and also spoke to my fellow council members. There were no real objections raised... and if there had been, they would not have served. My mind was set."

Clover was breathing heavily. "I still don't understand _why_."

James gripped his knees as he looked up into Clover's face. "For you. For us."

The silence was heavy in the room, as James gazed at Clover anxiously. _This is the part where he starts crying with relief, and we hug, and everything is back to how it should be_.

Clover's eyes narrowed. There were no tears.

"I never asked you to do that." He spoke in almost a hiss, and James flinched at the anger in his voice. "Don't make me the one responsible for ruining your career, James. That's not fair."

"Clover... I thought—"

"How could you be so stupid? To throw half your life away... for me? For _anyone_? You love your job, don't pretend otherwise."

James bit his lip, the grip on his knees increasing as he tried to stay calm.

"I do— did love my job, Clover. But I love you more."

He'd rehearsed that line. But it was supposed to be spoken as he held Clover gently, and softly whispered in his ear.

Not when he was sitting stiffly, almost in tears, facing a furious man who was saying all the wrong things.

Clover's anger started to dissipate as he watched the emotions chase themselves over James' face. His shoulders sagged. "I never asked you," he said quietly, his voice catching. "It's too much to put on me, James."

James stood, the blood thrumming in his ears. His heart was beating too quickly and he placed a hand to his chest unwittingly.

Clover saw the gesture and almost crumbled. Before he could move, James slowly walked to the door. He spoke without turning round.

"It would seem I have made a grave error of judgement. I apologise for upsetting you; that was not my intention, of course."

In a moment, he was gone.

Clover stared at the closed door. He wanted to run after him, pull him back, say sorry for reacting so stupidly...

Instead, he sat the sofa and leant forward, arms across his knees and head resting on his forearms.

The room darkened around him as he cried until his eyes were dry, and his heart was aching and empty.


	4. Chapter 4

James wished he could just go to sleep. Doubts about the decision he'd made kept forcing their way into his tired brain, as he stared into the darkness of his bedroom.

_What's the point in resigning, if he doesn't even—_

Now he'd taken the step, and informed so many people, it seemed as though there was no going back.

_I could retract, if I wished to. I don't even know what I want, any more._

That wasn't true, though. There was one thing he desired above all others, yet for the moment, he couldn't see a way to get it back.

He closed his eyes, wishing desperately that the man whose face he saw in his mind, was lying in bed beside him.

❖

Winter looked at the reply, a puzzled frown on her face. _Ebi had seemed so keen yesterday_.

She sent another message, checking if he was okay. The response to that was slow in arriving.

_Not really. Think I'll take a day off sick_

Now _that_ was almost unprecedented. She closed her scroll with a snap, and set off for Clover's quarters.

He opened the door a fraction and saw a sliver of Winter's face in the gap. Breathing out heavily, he opened the door wide.

"You were expecting an unwelcome visitor?"

"No... I dunno... maybe." Clover's voice was dull as he walked ahead of her, gesturing to the sofa wearily.

With a quizzical look at him, Winter sat down neatly. He remained standing, hands in the pockets of his joggers.

"What's happened? You don't look as though you've had any sleep." She peered up at him, her brow wrinkled.

He slumped onto the floor, back resting against the wall. "That's about it. And you won't have heard the news yet, I'm guessing."

"News? Oh, you mean the all hands briefing at ten o'clock? Probably some change to security procedures, I imagine."

He stared at her, red-rimmed eyes blinking repeatedly.

"Not quite. The General— isn't, any more. He'll be making an announcement, I'm guessing."

Winter sat back slightly, a startled expression on her face. "What do you mean?"

Clover drew his knees closer to his chest, hugging them tightly. "He's resigned. Because of me."

"Oh. Oh, dear." Winter found this news almost shocking, but for the moment she was more concerned about Clover. She pressed her lips together, regarding the man on the floor. "And— you're not happy about this?"

He ran a hand through his already untidy hair. "How can I be? How could he— I didn't know, Winter! He never said he was going to do such a reckless thing! He's given up a huge part of his life... I didn't ask him to. He thought I'd be pleased... I just feel cold."

Winter looked at him. She could see his hands trembling, and a tremor passed through his body.

"You _look_ cold, too. I think you should get into bed, Clover."

"But I'm not really ill..."

"Come on, you'll be no good to anyone like this."

She pulled him to his feet. "This is getting to be a habit," she said, with a small smile.

Clover's weak chuckle became a sob. "What's up with me? I should have been happy... James thought I would be. He looked devastated when I wasn't."

Winter pushed him towards the bed. The covers were rumpled and the pillow half fallen to the floor. With speedy efficiency she straightened the bedding and turned back the sheet.

"Come on, get in. I'll make you a hot chocolate."

He crawled under the covers and turned to look up at her. "There's no need..."

"There's every need. Now, hush up and get warm."

  


Winter found the makings of hot chocolate in the kitchen, and brought the mugs through to the bedroom. Clover pushed himself up to sitting and took his from her.

"I feel a bit better already... thanks, Winter."

She sat carefully at the end of the bed. "It's fine, I have almost half-an-hour before I need to be leaving." She blew on her drink and took a cautious sip.

"Now then, what are we to do about this?"

Clover looked at her blankly. "Do? What _can_ I do?"

She considered him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "Do you love him, Clover?"

His eyes widened at the frank question. "Yes... yes, I do."

"And he obviously feels the same. So why can't you get back together? What's stopping you?"

Clover opened his mouth to speak, then closed his lips. _What_ is _stopping me? Do I even know?_

"I suppose I feel guilty... he's made this huge decision, because of me... I didn't ask for it. Now his life's turned upside-down, and..." He stared at her helplessly. "I hardly know how I feel any more. What if it all goes wrong? He'll have given up his career and the responsibility is all mine."

Winter sighed. "You know, even if you weren't part of this, it's a good decision for him to make. How he came to be in the position of having two such demanding jobs, I don't understand." She sipped her chocolate before continuing. "So, setting one of them aside makes perfect sense. Therefore, I don't believe you should feel guilty. This is a sensible thing he's done, Ebi."

Clover frowned. "Are you just trying to make me feel better?"

She smiled. "All the years you've known me... how likely is that, would you say?"

He smiled back. It felt odd. _Whatever I do, I can't go on feeling this miserable all the time._

"Fair enough. And if what you say is correct... I shouldn't have spoken to him like I did yesterday."

"Maybe not. Although I think he should have discussed it with you, before taking that step. No matter; it's done now. You simply have to decide how you wish to proceed."

Clover laughed mirthlessly. "Yeah, it's simple, isn't it? I only wish I knew what I should do."

Winter swallowed the last of her chocolate. "But you _do_ know, don't you?" She looked at him steadily. "In here, you know." She placed a slim hand on her chest, before rising from her seat. Pulling the cover smooth, she added, "I can take him a message... if you wish?"

Clover glanced at his watch. It was twenty to ten.

"No, it's okay... I'll message him." He looked up at her. "Thanks for coming over, Winter. You've been a tremendous help."

"It's what friends do." She smiled once more, and turned to go.

"My mug is in the sink. Get some rest, if you can," she called on her way out.

"I will... thanks again."

Clover put his mug down and heaved a deep sigh. He picked up his scroll, frowning a little as he gazed unseeing across the room, then he began to type.

❖

James stood before the mirror on the inside of the cupboard door in his office. He adjusted his tie and smoothed his hair. _Shame I can't do anything about the face_. He tried smiling, but the image which stared back at him was far from happy. With a sigh, he closed the door and took his scroll from the desk. Before he left, he turned back and scanned the room.

_Strange to think this will no longer be mine in a month or so._

A pinching sensation in his gut was the response to this thought.

He frowned across the room, his eyes unfocused. _Do I_ really _want to leave all this? If the reason for doing so, is no longer relevant?_

James held a tiny hope in his heart that maybe, somehow, everything would work out. In which case, leaving this job was essential. He huffed out a sigh and turned to open the door.

As he put his hand on the door handle, an alert sounded on his scroll. With a tut, he withdrew it to cancel the sound.

At the sight of Clover's name attached to the message he felt his knees weaken. Leaning against the door, he read the message.

_I over-reacted yesterday. I'm sorry. I won't be at the meeting this morning, but if you want to call in afterwards, or something... we should probably talk?_

The feeling he had was now more of a bubbling sensation, as if his heart was lifting from his chest. His fingers trembled as he typed a brief reply.

❖

The hubbub in the room died down a little as James made his way through the assembled soldiers. Some of the braver souls clapped him on the back as he passed, and he reached the door with the good wishes of his subordinates loud in his ears.

Winter edged her way through the throng and approached him. "That was very moving, sir. It won't be the same here without you."

He smiled at her wanly. "I won't be going very far, of course. I hope we can continue as friends, Specialist."

"I hope so, too. And— there is someone else whose friendship you will find helpful, I think."

He raised an eyebrow. "I am going to see him now."

She rested a hand briefly on his arm. "Good luck, sir."

❖

Clover dressed himself with awkward fingers. He hadn't slept, of course, but he felt a little better than earlier.

_Winter deserves the biggest bunch of flowers, or— or whatever it is she likes._

He looked around the room, not really knowing what he was looking for. There was a sharp tap on the door, and he went to open it, his heart thumping painfully.

James stood there once again, his smile uncertain. Clover managed a small smile in return, and went ahead of him into the room. James followed him, waiting hesitantly as Clover turned to face him.

"You can sit down, James. Shall I put the kettle on?"

"Yes please... actually, no thank you. I'd rather you just— said whatever it is..."

Clover's fingers twitched. He wanted to take James' hand, draw him close, and forget the past weeks completely. Yet he knew, that would be folly. They had to come to an understanding, if there was to be any future for them.

James sat down, and Clover joined him, sitting at the further end of the sofa and turning towards him to speak. "First up, I'm sorry for going off at you yesterday. It was such a shock, James. I just didn't know what to say, or how to react..." Clover felt his eyes prickling, and blinked hard.

"And I'm sorry for springing it on you like that. I truly thought you'd be overjoyed... If I'm not your superior, then every concern regarding that situation is negated. No more need for secrecy. I know that's what you wanted, so I thought..."

"You're right, it is— it was always what I wanted. But I understood why we couldn't... I just hated it, James. I was so proud to be with you, and so proud _of_ you... I wanted everyone to see how happy we were. Bit silly really, I suppose—"

James scooted the short way along the sofa and caught one of Clover's hands. "It wasn't silly, and you know I would have loved that too... every time I thought of you, my heart— well, I never knew a heart could feel like that." James looked away, blushing.

Clover swallowed hard. "So... Mr Ironwood. Or is it Professor Ironwood?" He couldn't help but smile at the thought.

James looked up. "I'll settle with Mr Ironwood, I think. It feels more... comfortable."

Clover took James' hand between his own. "Shall we— do you want to... try again? Or wait until you've officially left the army?" He felt shy, and peered up at James, his unstyled hair flopping over his forehead.

James regarded him closely. "Could you bear to wait until it's all signed off? I feel it would be prudent... I mean," he continued hastily as he saw Clover's face fall, "it will be no more than a month, less if I can manage it. And we can see each other discreetly in that time, if you like..."

Clover sat up straight, and huffed out a breath. "No, let's wait. No more hiding away... then when you've left officially, we can be together properly."

James gazed at him. _What I've done to deserve this dear, patient man, I do not know._

He squeezed Clover's hand. "Very well, if that's okay with you... it's okay with me."

"There is one other thing, though." Clover's voice was serious as he studied James' face. He saw a worried frown appear, and continued quickly, "Not a problem... more of a... rule, I guess?"

James' face relaxed a little. "I approve of rules, broadly speaking."

Clover spoke hesitantly. "I think, if there's a decision to take, which affects both of us... then it shouldn't be taken by only one person." He looked into James' face as he finished.

James brought Clover's hand to his lips, and kissed the knuckles softly. "That is a very good rule."

❖

Three weeks later, Clover sat beside Winter in the main auditorium. A series of senior speakers had recounted General Ironwood's achievements, interspersed with a number of anecdotes. Clover had heard most of these, but the one involving the fire hose and the visiting dignitaries definitely needed more detail. _I'll ask him later... when we're alone._ He ran a finger around the inside of the collar of his dress uniform, flexing his shoulders and wishing the jacket wasn't so tight. Winter threw him a glance as he fidgeted beside her.

"Too many sleeves?" she teased, and he grinned.

He was still smiling later, when the formalities were concluded and the guests enjoying a buffet meal. James approached, plate in hand. Clover was standing at the edge of the room, wishing he could leave and take his jacket off. As James drew near, those thoughts were forgotten.

"Hello, Mr Ironwood." He looked up into warm blue eyes, crinkling at the corners. "That uniform needs to come off."

"You don't look too comfortable in yours. Maybe in a while, we can attend to the matter." He took something from his plate. "Olive?"

Clover's eyes widened. "Here? Now?"

"Why not? I'm merely a civilian, you know." He laughed, a lightness in his body which felt unusual. "Here you are."

He held the olive to Clover's mouth, slipping it inside and letting his fingertips linger for a moment. Clover ran his tongue over James' fingers, before taking the olive and eating it. "You're very daring, Mr Ironwood."

James chuckled. "You sound like someone in a period drama."

Clover smiled. "So long as the story ends with _they lived happily ever after_ , I don't mind."

"I fully intend for that to be the case." James' face was serious, and he added, "I need to speak quickly to a few people, and then we can go, if you like?"

"I like."

James brushed Clover's hand lightly, before turning and crossing the room. A few pairs of curious eyes followed him, glancing back to where Clover stood smiling after James as he walked away.

Clover didn't care. The relief... the _joy_ he felt after the brief exchange with James was a blazing torch which burned away the hurt from all the secrecy and deception of a few months ago. He felt new-born, ready to move on from this moment side by side with the man he loved.

He went back to the buffet table and selected a few more morsels of food. There was a nudge against his arm, and he turned to see Winter smiling up at him.

"All's well, then?"

"It is... thank you so much, Winter. If you hadn't talked sense into me, who knows how things would've turned out." He put down his plate, and hugged her to his chest. "You helped to save us... thank you. Again and again."

She laughed, wriggling a little in his embrace. "Careful, Ebi... maybe I could take you down in the training room, but when it comes to brute strength, you win every time."

"Uh, sorry!" He dropped his arms, smiling ruefully as she smoothed her jacket.

"No, it's fine." Winter sniffed, rubbing her nose. "I'm so happy for you... and him." She tilted her head, glancing around Clover as James approached.

He slid an arm around Clover's waist. "Hello, Winter. It's nice to see you looking so well."

"And you, sir. You will be sorely missed here, of course... but you have made a wise decision. For many reasons." She smiled at them both. "When the dust has settled, perhaps you would like to come over to mine for dinner? Nothing formal, but it will make a nice change to have company."

Clover glanced up at James' profile, then back to Winter.

"Thanks Winter, sounds great."

"That would be delightful."

They spoke as one. Winter nodded, and with a final "Goodbye... James... Ebi," she walked away.

  


James and Clover left shortly after. When James took his hand as they made their way to the door, Clover couldn't imagine his day could possibly get any better.

But it did.

They went back to Clover's quarters.

They had a teasing argument about what takeaway to order.

When the delivery from The Atlas Noodle House arrived, James went down in his socked feet to collect it, startling Elm and Vine who were coming out of the common room.

And after they'd eaten, and stacked the boxes in the kitchen, they went to bed.

  


There was a slow, tender hour or so, which almost brought both of them to tears as they held each other close. The precious thing they shared, which had so very nearly been shattered by a reluctance to communicate and compromise, was safe once more.

  


"So, James, will you miss being able to give me orders?" Clover shifted a little, dropping a kiss on the black hair and trying not to sneeze when it tickled his nose.

"Mmm?" James' voice was sleepy. "I suppose it's a loss I will learn to bear," he chuckled, kissing Clover's chest.

"Because, you know... if you ever want to, you know—" Clover tailed off, and James twisted his head to peer into his face.

"I don't know... what do you mean, Clover?"

Clover's face was a fiery red as he tried to say what he wanted.

"We could... you could be the General again. In the bedroom, I mean. If you get what I'm saying."

James pushed himself up onto one elbow. "Are you saying you'd like to take orders from me, now and again?" His other hand traced across Clover's chest, and Clover shivered.

"Maybe now and again. Nothing weird," he added hastily. "Just... friendly, you know." He shot a quick glance at James, reassured by his warm look.

"I think I could manage that." James smiled, leaning up to kiss him. "In between going out for meals, visiting the cinema, going for walks, seeing friends, inviting people round to eat..."

"We're going to be busy." Clover smiled at him.

"We are. And we'll be busy together." After one more kiss, James laid back down with a contented sigh. He knew, as a man who generally thought logically, that the intense delight he felt now would inevitably quieten to a more everyday contentment. And he was perfectly happy with either.

Clover held him a little closer, trying to stop smiling because he wasn't sure it was possible to fall asleep when the widest grin was spread across his face. But the warmth shared with James lulled him slowly towards slumber, and after a short while, both men were fast asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly comments always appreciated, thank you.


End file.
